Memories and Dreams
Some we like. Some we could do without. Memories serve some purpose. Mine serve to remind me of what and who I am. Some I’m proud of, some not so much. All were sent my way for a purpose if for nothing else than to learn that lesson.
21APR1972 – Clark Air Force Base in the Philippines was one leg of a two-week ordeal that finally saw me arrive back in Boston, in far worse shape than when I left it eighteen months prior.
I’ve mentioned before how my brain keeps throwing these tidbits of minutiae at me having to do with those two weeks. This year was more of the same. I woke from a sound sleep this morning with fading visions of an asian man pulling my gurney. In real life this would have been when I was on Clark Air Base. At first I was just a little surprised. I’d just woken for one of the few coherent moments I had in those first five days after the night/morning of April 17-18.
Once fully alert or as alert as I could be, I started to panic seeing this asian guy. I tried to rise but was firmy strapped down. Fortunately the orderly behind me put his hand on my good shoulder and told me an a very Texan drawl, “Ease up there, buddy. Y’all safe now.” I remember trying to look over my shoulder, then nothing again for several more days when we hit Guam.
That in and out of it state of my mind was both a curse and a boon. I need the down time to heal, my body and my head. But Lordy, not knowing what was what for so long seemed to be the very purpose of the rest of my life – to be lost and wondering WTF happened.
As I healed, mentally and physically, these memories started to filter back into my consciousness. The speed with which these memories returned to me, in dribs and drabs, I believe was the only way I could have absorbed it at all without a complete breakdown.
Today, I believe these – fillers – I call them now, represent the end game for me. The final reckoning if you will. There isn’t much left to recall. Well, there doesn’t seem like there are any more holes in the event stream. Maybe!
I survived another on – year I mean, so we’re good.
Shorty sends…
